Oh Erin, My Home by Florence Kellett

Oh Erin, my home,
I am coming to thee,
Across desert and mountain
And river and sea.

To the dear little cabin
The place I was born
Mid the wave of the rye
And the gleam of the corn.

Near the wild rugged mountain,
Where the heather grows free,
And the wild rose unfettered
Creeps down to the sea.

Oh land of the gray mist,
Of sunshine and rain,
In thy rapturous beauty
I see thee again.

Oh, the breath of the bog land,
And the smell of the peat,
And the flowers all gleaming
Like stars at my feet.

Soon, soon, I'll be with you,
Then, never to part,
I shall dream my last dream
In the land of my heart.

What a home for a wanderer
When the storms are past,
In the green isle of Erin
There'll be rest at the last.